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Coffee Cup - Pandemic Blues

I am become
My mornings ritual cup of coffee.
Each day I stare
Into the empty non resloute pure white
Porcelain of nothingness.

I am become
Yesterday's dried up sentiments, stains of
Life's permanent ink,
Droplet's of abandonment linger at the bottom,
My charcoal mosaic.

I am become
That black reviviscent portion for hope, that
Morning prayer syrup
Mixed into creamy despair or lost dreams ...
My sunrise offering.

I am become
That final cup that I shall truly miss.
But, until then
I shall pour life's bittersweet into the emptiness
Of my cup.

--Jose L., Adult